


Tentative Treaties

by orphan_account



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-01-20 17:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18529963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Rangers are a group of highly effective raiders who have been terrorizing the Kingdom of Araluen for centuries. Horace as a part of King Duncan's fighting force is sent on a simple mission to guard a shipment through the places Rangers are known to raid. The thing with simple missions is things often go very, very wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

A young man, dressed in full armor sat atop his battle horse looking over the vast plains. It was customary for King Duncan to send an armored patrol with the supplies this time of year. The brigade of lawless raiders who called themselves the Rangers would be back anytime. It was like clock work, the group would travel elsewhere in the winter only to appear again when the grass was green enough for their horses. Each year they returned sooner and sooner, though no one seemed to know why and no one from Araluen dared get close enough to ask.

The Rangers weren’t known for their kind dispositions and willingness to set captives free. There was a reason six armored guards had been sent with a single shipment of minor supplies. If Horace was honest he may have been dozing just a bit when they were being told what they were guarding. If you were told what you were guarding chances were it wasn’t terribly valuable. He had a feeling, judging by the smell radiating from the covered wagon it was probably heavily salted meats. Some of which weren’t doing so well in the heat.

Still, Horace was willing to accept the smell as long as it meant getting away from the monotony of everyday castle life. After a while, the relatively unchanging schedule wore on him and he needed to get out. This change of pace had been exactly what he needed. Plus, here on the plains there was little chance anyone could sneak up on them. Especially not on horseback as the Rangers preferred. That made his job a thousand times easier.

The day went by at the steady pace they had been keeping for the past few days. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and Horace could only hope things stayed that way. Some said the Rangers practiced black magic that allowed them to sneak up on you before you even knew they were there. Then, with the same stealth and silence they were gone. Some had even ventured so far as to say they were ghosts. In the light of the day Horace wasn’t so easily swayed, but as the shadows lengthened each night he slowly became more aware of the superstitious tales.

The small, though in Horace’s opinion oversized, party made their way to the Araluen fief with no trouble. Not even the smallest hitch. That alone was enough to set Horace’s teeth on edge. While the other knights bragged about how much easier a return journey would be Horace couldn’t bring himself to share their excitement. Just because they hadn’t run into anyone yet, didn’t mean they wouldn’t.

Only a fool celebrated their triumph before it came to pass. Looking at the knights in his company as they drank and partied, he was starting to think he was traveling with fools. Horace sighed and began preparing for the return trip. He ensured Kicker, his stunning bay battle horse was tended to. He refused to leave the horse’s side until the stallion’s coat shone. If nothing else, the horse was appreciative and that was all that mattered.

A small young man with a mottled grey-green cloak pulled tightly around his shoulders raised a hand to block the sun from his eyes. They couldn’t be much further now. He looked to his companions, seated atop similarly barrel chested horses that looked no better than ponies. The man beside him was only a few years older and tall enough to have earned himself a horse on the taller side. Gilan seemed to be looking straight ahead, but with a Ranger you could never tell. They were trained to continuously scan the horizon for anything out of the ordinary without letting an observer notice. A life on the run would do that to you.

So, Will turned his attention to Halt and Crowley. The two senior members were speaking in low tones amongst themselves. Will had a feeling it had to do with the time they were making. It was slower going than anyone would have liked, but moving fifty people and some families, even if they were used to the constant movement was still a hassle. They were a few days behind where they wanted to be and having to regroup every morning was becoming tedious. Everyone was done with this trip and for good reason.

“Will,” Crowley motioned for the young man to join him. When Tug fell in step beside Cropper the grizzled Ranger continued. “Ride on ahead. I want to know where the shipments are going through.”

Crowley would have preferred to go himself, but Will was well versed the art of unseen movement, just as they all were. More importantly, Tug was probably the fastest horse they had available to them and Crowley would be a fool not to use that to their advantage. All they needed was someone to get in there, figure out how close they were to the trade routes and get out.

There was a perfect medium Crowley was looking for. One that was close enough to the route to allow them the chance to raid if they needed to, but far enough away that a camp of around 70 couldn’t easily be spotted. He let his shoulders fall as the numbers ran through his head. He would be much further from the roads than he wanted, but the women and children traveling with them would be safer for it. It just meant he would have to post scouting camps closer and relieve them every few days. Probably two. Those camps would be too close to the road for fires and he wasn’t sure any Ranger would agree to stay out longer than that without coffee. Especially when they knew their comrades weren’t terribly far enjoying the warm drink.

Halt glanced to his friend as Will rode away. Tug was still in view as was typically of the plains, but becoming smaller far more quickly than most expected from the stocky horse.

“You shouldn't look like that when you’re thinking.” Halt said.

“Like what?” Crowley’s voice held a slight uncertainty to it. He’d known Halt long enough to know what a setup to one of his jokes felt like. It felt a lot like this.

“Like you’ve just smelled fish that's been in the sun too long,” Halt replied.

“Or like you just fell in horse dung!” Gilan piped up helpfully.

Halt gestured back at the younger Ranger, as though Gilan’s help allowed no argument.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been told I look very dashing when I think,” Crowley said, raising his chin indignantly. “It makes me look sophisticated.”

Halt nodded slowly, unbelieving, but it was Gilan who spoke.

“I’m not sure imaginary friends count as people.” the younger of the three seemed rather proud of himself.

“I’m not sure he has the imagination to make something like that,” Halt informed the Ranger who was drawing his horse in line with the two leaders. “Chances are his mother told him. Which also doesn’t count.”

“I’m doing a round!” Crowley muttered before urging Cropper into a canter.

Rounds were done periodically to ensure everyone was keeping up the pace. They also allowed the Rangers to ensure no one was trying to sneak up on them. With a group of 70 or so it was hard to move quietly enough to hear someone coming up behind you. Even on the plains, seeing forever was no good if you never turned around to look. Rounds also allowed disgruntled senior Rangers to avoid their friends after a good ribbing when they had no witty retort.

“Do you think we took it too far?” Gilan asked quietly, once Crowley was out of ear shot. Normally, he wouldn’t worry about such a thing, but everyone was stressed. He had just been trying to ease some of the tension, but now had a sinking feeling his interjection had done the opposite.

“That kindness is bound to get you into trouble,” Halt muttered.

“You said the very reason you picked me was because I was kind,” Gilan reminded him.

“Crowley didn’t give me a choice and you handle a sword well enough,” then Halt shrugged. “The kindness was an accepted truth.” An accepted truth that made Gilan an amazing person who deserved a kinder life. After a short pause he addressed Gilan’s original question. “He’s probably thinking of a retort to use next time. Or concocting arguments in his head. Some say that’s the mark of a genius.”

“Did you just call Crowley a genius?” Gilan asked.

Halt’s eyes darkened, realising he had in fact called Crowley a genius. Which also meant he had effectively caught himself in a trap. He sighed, before gently taking Blaze’s reins.

The little horse looked at him curiously but allowed it. She could easily break away if need be, but this was Halt and he wasn’t truly threatening her rider. Unless Gilan asked something different of her, she was content to continue matching pace with Abelard.

Halt leaned over his saddle and in a low tone that was more of growl he said. “Not a word of this to anyone.”


	2. Chapter 2

Will’s eyes scanned the horizon as he drew closer to what he assumed to be the road. Road was a strong word for it. In all honesty it was nothing more than a muddy path, grass worn away from heavy wagons. It was here Will decided was close enough on horseback. He slowed Tug to a halt and dismounted giving the small horse the signal to lay down. 

Once Will was satisfied that Tug would be hidden in the tall grass he inched his way forward. The grass was barely waist high so he had to crouch to avoid being seen. He knew if someone saw him it would only be about two weeks or so before the king heard about them and had knights set along the road. The goal was to not be noticed until after at least three raids.

Last year they had gotten unlucky. Someone had managed to escape their first raid and raise the alarm in neighboring towns. After that it had taken less than a week for soldiers to be placed along the road at key points. Guards made it all the more difficult to get the job done and kill as few people as possible. They didn’t like killing. At the very least, Will tried avoiding it, if possible. He preferred it when they could get away with a few things and not be seen. Killing people who were just doing their jobs seemed like an unnecessary waste of life.

When Will was able to easily see the road through the tall grass surrounding him he stopped. The clinking and clanking of armored fighters drifted to his ears long before he saw them. With his vision blocked by the grass it took him longer than he preferred to lay eyes on the source of the sound.

There was a wagon traveling with six mounted knights. The knights were spaced so one stood in front one in the back and then two on either side. The remaining two knights would do outward sweeps of the grass surrounding the wagon. Will had seen this setup before, though it didn’t usually happen until they had been raiding for a few weeks. This wasn’t good a good sign. There was the chance that this wagon carried something valuable, but Will doubted it when the smell of aging meat reached him.

The more likely answer to this situation was the king had been expecting them. This time he was building up his defences before they could strike. This was what they got for showing up earlier and earlier every year. Eventually, the king was bound to start sending guards before the attacks started.

Now that Will was aware of the wagon he was also aware that there was no escape. On the open plains like this, the slightest movement could give him away. If he got caught there was no way of passing off his telltale cloak and recurve bow as anything but what he was. A Ranger. Which he was certain was exactly the thing the guards were looking for.

His knees ached in protest of staying half bent for as long as he figured it would take for the wagon to pass. The thought of having to hold this rather awkward position was tiring in itself, but Will would rather be tired than dead. So, the young man held his position. Even when the aching in his knees turned to a burn that he knew was going to cramp as soon as he tried to move.  _ All the more reason to stay still _ . He added to himself.

The wagon passed him by without incident, but just as the last rider was about to pass, the thundering hooves of a horse came toward him from behind. His every instinct told him he needed to run. This horse was going to trample him and that would be the end. A memory of a person, now a pancake. Just before the fear stole his thoughts his training kicked in.

_ Trust the cloak _ . Easier said than done when you have a battle horse cantering up behind you. Still, Will held his position.

He took a small, imperceptible breath. He just needed to calm his nerves. If this was how it ended then this was it. The thought did little to make the moment more enjoyable, but allowing himself to accept he had little control of the situation eased his nerves sightly. At least, that was until the large bay horse stopped directly beside him.

If Will had been scared before, he was terrified now. He could feel his heart pumping an icy shot of fear through his veins with every beat. The creature was so close. Will was certain it could feel his breath on its leg. He was all too aware that a battle horse this close meant there was a metal boot just as close to his head.

“Did you find anything?” A voice from the direction of the wagon called.

“Nothing,” the man closest to Will replied.

His voice was so sharp in Will’s ear the Ranger almost wiced. Will feared any moment the knight would look down and see him hiding in the grass. If that happened, if they saw Will now there was no hope of escaping. The knight above him would grab him before he had time to react. Even as Will forced himself to be still he swore the knight could hear his heart beating rapidly. The knight waited until the rest of the caravan had moved on before trotting his large horse after them.

Will waited a few more minutes before dropping to the ground, allowing the fear and leg cramps a moment to run their course. That was the closest he wanted to be to a battle horse for a long time. Taking another deep breath he checked the road.

The wagon was far enough away that they probably wouldn't see him if he began moving so he waited ten more minutes. He had to be sure no one would see him grabbing Tug. More importantly, he had to make sure no one followed him back to the group.

When he rejoined the group his horse was greeted first. That seemed to be customary considering those he was closest to. Halt was more for showing affection by pretending he didn't care, though Crowley and Gilan did give him a nod when he joined them at a temporary camp just before sunset.

Will relayed the information with the addition of, “I nearly got trampled by a battle horse. I feel like that means I should earn a little more respect.”

Halt, now sure that Will was okay was the first to respond. “Did you get trampled by the horse?”

“Well, no, but--”

“Did you throw yourself in front of the horse to protect a damsel in distress?” Halt pressed.

Will, seeing where this conversation was heading and not enjoying the outcome responded crestfallen. “No.”

“If, and only if you throw someone else in front of a battle horse Crowley and I might discuss the amount respect you’re given,” Halt offered.

“Encouraging Will to throw people in front of horses?” Gilan asked, making his way back from the cook fire in the center of camp, roasted rabbit leg in hand. Then Gilan turned to Will proudly. “I’m the one who gave him that idea.”

“I never said it was a good one,” Halt pointed out, but his words fell upon the deaf ears of his younger companions. His attention then turned to his oldest friend.

Crowley was sitting on a bed roll, staring off in the direction of the road.

“You look rather somber,” Halt noted as he sat in the grass beside his friend. The red headed Ranger rarely held anything but a smile on his face. Seeing him look disheartened was a cause for worry.

“I’m thinking--”

“A dangerous thing,” Halt countered almost instinctively. “What has you making a face more knotted than a Scandinavian sail?”

“The king is ready for us,” Crowley’s voice was low, in hopes of avoiding nosey onlookers. “This isn’t going to be as easy for us this year. Last year we came away with little. We can’t be sure the Araluen is even noticing what we do. We need them to know we won’t stand by and let their deeds go unpunished.”

Halt looked up at his friend. Crowley’s hazel eyes were dark and there was a sense of finality in his voice that Halt rarely heard. For a moment, Halt was worried for his friend, but reason quickly set in. This was Crowley. If anyone could take care of some knights and show the world the truth, it was him. Halt was happy to lend a hand if someone needed tossed in front of a horse, but talking was best left to Crowley.

 

“I take it you have something in mind.”


	3. Chapter 3

Will was laying in the grass, his plain clothes soaking the morning dew from the grass surrounding him. He was thankful that his cloak at least kept it from his back, but he could feel the water soaking into his tunic around the elbows. Thankfully, the leather vest kept him mostly dry as he scooted to the edge of the road.

He made sure to leave a few feet of grass between him and the edge. The last thing he wanted was to have a wagon roll over his head. Or worse, a repeat of yesterday. Will watched Jenny sit at the very edge of the road, her simple brown cloak bundled in her arms. The plump woman didn’t fit the stereotype of what people expected of their small band. Jenny, like most of the woman who traveled with them, wasn’t trained in the art of silent movement.

It wasn’t that the women weren’t allowed to learn, most just didn't. There were other things that needed to be done when it came to keeping their growing band in line. Jenny preferred cooking as it was. They had only borrowed her for this because she was the least likely to raise suspicion.

Will watched, eyes scanning the horizon as Jenny rocked the bundle in her arms. If all went well this would be simple. Stop a passing wagon, while Will, Gilan, and Halt took out the guard and Jenny would deal with the driver. This was the most common operation they ran. It only worked the first two or three times. After that, word got to the towns and the beggar distraction was more trouble than it was worth.

Will’s dark brown eyes focused on Jenny as she stood, moving the small bundle to one arm. He strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of what Jenny might have seen. Then he heard it, the telltale clink of armor. He felt his heart beat faster when he remembered how close he had been to the battle horse. That had been terrifying enough without entertaining ideas of what could have happened.

As the knights drew closer he recognized the voices. This was the exact same group he’d run into. He was also certain he’d recognize that bay anywhere. The tall, muscular horse traveled smoothly through the muddy path. It was almost impressive. 

The young Ranger looked around for his companions. Thankfully, the only one he could see was Jenny. She was frantically waving down the six knights as they came closer. Will loosened his grip on the recurve bow. His knuckles had turned white from holding it and it was the best way, with little movement, to force himself to relax. There wasn’t much else he could do at the moment. His job was to wait for a signal. Until then he was to lay in the wet grass and stay as still as possible.

The six knights pulled in closer as they approached the apparently frantic woman. The one in the front push on ahead, many of his compatriots following his lead. The three moved their steed around the woman in the road. One of the men in the middle felt mighty enough to give Jenny a good kick in the side, knocking her to the ground.

The last man in line, the one riding the bay, stopped, leaning in his saddle to help Jenny to her feet. He said something Will wasn’t able to make out, but Jenny gave him a genuine smile, so it must have been kind. Once the knight helped Jenny to her feet one of the men in the front went down with a cry of pain. With that, the world exploded into action.

The knight righted himself quickly. His horse was now between the unseen attacker and Jenny.

“Stay back,” Horace said. “I wouldn’t want a lady like yourself to get hurt.”

Something, maybe some barely perceptible movement told him to look to his left. There he watched as a cloaked figure rose from the tall grass to shoot an arrow at one of his companions. Horace couldn’t say he held much comradery for those he was traveling with. However, he felt an odd sense of duty. He may not have friendship with these men, but they served the king just as he did. Therefore, it technically fell under his duties to defend them. More importantly, there was a Ranger, an enemy of the kingdom, he needed to take care of.

Horace wasted no time sending his horse in the Ranger’s direction, drawing his sword. The knight slashed down at the Ranger. The smaller man sank into the grass, disappearing before Horace's hit landed.

Will danced behind the knight. Hiding was no longer an option. The cloak was only truly perfect if Will stood still and he didn’t have that luxury. Still, the cloak might give a few precious seconds. In a fight, sometimes that was all you needed.

Horace kicked his feet from the stirrups landing easily, sword pointed in Will's direction. The knight stood, blade pointed at the Ranger, making steady circles. He was surprised to see the Ranger meeting him with two knives. One much smaller than the other. Both men stood still, waiting for the other to make the first move. There was a thud of a body hitting the ground and Horace knew if he didn't act now he might never have the chance.

The first strike was easy enough for Will to catch with his two knives. Then things moved a bit faster than he was used to. The smaller man found himself inching backward. He managed to cast the large sword aside and return the favor with his small throwing knife.

Horace barely managed to jump to the side, small blade glancing uselessly off his chainmail. The knight reached out, with a quickness Will hadn’t expected. The Ranger had no chance to avoid the armored hand snatching his wrist out of the air. Will twisted in the tightening grip, cowl falling from his head.

For a second the two boys stood face-to-face. Horace was painfully aware of just how young the boy beside him was. They couldn’t have been more than a year apart in age. Then, Horace remembered where he was. This was a fight for his life. He didn't have the luxury of letting age get the better of him.

He squeezed the Ranger’s wrist, forcing the Ranger to drop the throwing knife. Horace saw the next attack almost before his opponent moved.

As he dropped the throwing knife Will took one last stab with his larger saxe. He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected it to do to a knight in chain, but it was better than accepting whatever was coming his way. Before his hit connected something collided with his temple and his vision went black. Later contemplation would tell him the knight had dropped the sword and swung a fist in the direction of Will's head.

The Ranger crumpled to the ground, a small amount of blood starting to pool in the young man’s brown hair near the temple. Horace allowed himself a moment to feel bad. He hadn’t intended to hurt the boy that badly. He just needed to get out of here and this Ranger might have answers.

There was no way of knowing how close the other Rangers were. He needed to get out of here now. He could see another knight crawling away from the scene. Without a second's hesitation, Horace tossed Will behind Kicker’s saddle and moved to help his traveling companion.


	4. Chapter 4

Will came to with a pounding headache just behind his eyes. Blinking hurt, now that he was trying to open his eyes he found that the low evening sun also sent pain hammering through his skull. His hands were tied securely behind his back, beside him was the first man who had been injured in their raid.

The man had linens wrapped around his arm where he had been hit. Will could see the man’s skin redden along the outside of the bandages. Something about it didn’t seem right. The linens were fairly wide pieces of fabric. They should have easily covered an arrow wound. Even if the knight had been dumb and tried to pull it out. Then he saw it, a discarded crossbow bolt not far from the injured man.

Will’s brow furrowed as he was reminded of the sharp pain in his head. Apparently, that was as much thinking as his brain would allow for a while. Something was missing from this situation, but there was too much pain for his brain to work properly.. Will let out a tiny pained noise as the light glinted off Horace’s sword and found its way directly into his eyes.

The young knight looked up from where he was sitting, a vague acknowledgement. He then returned to sharpening the dents out of his sword. For a second, Will was pleased with himself. He knew those dents were from his small saxe. Despite ending up on the losing side he was glad to have put up at least a decent fight. Then the whetstone scraped against the blade and the sound rattled his already thudding head.

The young Ranger looked down at the grass, closing his eyes. Hoping if he could manage to get an ounce of sleep it might help with his headache. Of course he knew it was from being knocked out. He also knew that Malcolm would tell him not to sleep yet as there could be other damage done. But Malcolm wasn't here and Will was an adult who could make his own bad decisions.

"Ranger," the knight's voice jarred Will from his sleep. When he had the captive's attention Horace continued. "Tell me how to cure my companion."

The Ranger looked at Horace with bleary, confused eyes. The taller man was silhouetted against the setting sun. "What?"

The voice was thick and the delay between question and answer was too long. Once again, Horace felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he had hit him a bit too hard.

"You poisoned him," Horace explained in slower and quieter tone. "If you value your life you'll tell me how to cure it."

The Ranger blinked a few times before glancing at the man lying in the grass not too far away. "Poison?"

Now Will was awake. His brain sensed there was a mystery that needed to be solved. He locked eyes with the knight. The knight had drawn an incorrect conclusion somewhere. The key was to figure out where.

"We don't use poison." Will's voice was flat. "If a Ranger had shot him he'd be dead."

The words only registered with Will after they left his mouth. Maybe he should have left that last part out. Then he decided it didn’t matter, there were more pressing issues at hand. If someone had been using poison then it wasn’t a Ranger. Which meant someone else had fired that first shot, but who?

The knight gave a laugh void of humor as he held the bolt that had been pulled from the other knight. "You're telling me another group, who can disappear at will shot an arrow at him." The knight gesture to his injured companion. "To what, frame you?"

"That's not an arrow," Will said. Now that he could get a better look at it he was certain. "That's a crossbow bolt. You can tell by the feathers." Will nodded toward his bow and quiver sitting too far away for him to do anything about it. "You can compare it to one of my arrows if you want. We don't use poison and we don't use crossbows. If we want someone dead we hit them where it counts."

Horace hesitated. He didn't know a lot about arrows, but even he could tell that at least some of what the Ranger said was true. This bolt looked nothing like the arrows the Ranger carried. He also didn't recall hearing anything about Rangers using poison or crossbows. Though, there was the possibility this was some new kind of arrow they were testing. Even if that were the case, it didn’t explain the poison. Unless that was a brand new development Horace would have know about it. He was more privy to private information than most knights. Part of him was inclined to believe the Ranger. Part of him was skeptical. Now he had more of a reason to take this Ranger to the King. Someone with a higher rank should make that call.

"That's an interesting theory," Horace said. "Unfortunately for you, it doesn't explain who it was if not a Ranger."

Will shook his head, an action he immediately regretted. Why couldn't this knight see it. Something was very wrong here. No one other than Rangers had been in this area for at least three decades. This wasn't good. Will needed to get this information back to Halt and Crowley. They would know what to do with it. To do that he would have to escape and he couldn't think of a way to do that.

As far as captors went, this knight wasn't that bad. Will had heard horror stories of Araluen knights cutting off toes and fingers if the didn't get what they wanted. One of the Ranger's even claimed a knight had cut off his leg. The cruelty of Araluen Knights had become a story parents told their kids to make them behave. Compared to that, the knight seemed pleasant. He never resorted to torture or pushing for information. 

Still, Will may have been an adult, but that didn't mean he was entirely immune to the tales of his youth. There was the ever-growing potential that he was in danger. Not just from the knight, but this unknown attacker as well. He needed to get back to the others.


End file.
